by Yuu Tanaka
“Hang on. She might be the one we were told about…”
“Oh! The Black Cat girl! She does fit the description…”
“Pardon me, but may we ask for your name?”
“Fran.”
“Of course. Apologies, Miss Fran. Please, enter.”
“R-right this way!”
The older guard looked slightly troubled, but the younger was flustered and nervous.
I had a feeling they only recognized her because of the prince. He probably wanted to make sure that she reached the manor without any problems. As far as the guards were concerned, Fran was related to visiting royalty. They had to keep their code of etiquette, no matter what she looked like.
“Thanks.”
“Not at all! Do take care!”
Before we finally reached the manor, we ran into the same scenario twice more.
The noble district was large, even for a major city, and there were guards posted throughout. The Count’s manor was in front of us, although it was still quite some distance away. We were probably at the entrance now—imposing gates with knights guarding the front and a guard station for them to rest in. The gates lent to the intimidation, and there were two knights posing as gatekeepers.
Fran showed no sign of fear and talked to them as she would to anyone.
“Hey, is this the Count’s mansion?”
The knight stopped, not expecting a little girl to talk to him so casually.
“Yes… Are you the one our guests have been waiting for?”
“Hm.”
“Excuse me, but may I see your identification?”
“Here you go.”
“Thank you. Please wait.”
The knight understood her purpose here before we could explain. He skipped the interrogations and went right into attending us.
The other knight went inside the small guardhouse with Fran’s adventurer card. There must’ve been a device to check its authenticity inside, because he soon returned and gave it back respectfully.
“Thank you for waiting. Please, right this way. He will show you inside.”
They were treating her like a guest of honor, although I couldn’t help but feel the formality hid something in his voice.
I knew Fran wouldn’t be able to keep her manners up for long. If perfect etiquette was expected of her, we would leave. Fran and Jet couldn’t stand it.
We followed the young knight inside. There was quite some distance between the gates and the actual manor itself. I suppose most guests arrived in a carriage. They didn’t expect that someone would actually get here on foot. We passed the garden, roughly three hundred meters of it, before finally coming into full view of the manor.
Unlike the front gates, which were built to deter robbers, the manor was magnificently elegant. It looked like those mansions I always imagined European Tudors would have lived in.
Several people were waiting for us out front, probably the butler and the maids of this place.
“Fran the Adventurer, I presume?”
“Hm.”
“I am Sebastian, the butler of this manor. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Oh my God, did he say his name was Sebastian? I couldn’t believe it. The cats would be named Tama, the dogs Pochi, and here was Sebastian the butler himself! In the flesh! This world kept getting better and better…
Sadly, Fran did not share my sentiments. She didn’t see the big deal, and unceremoniously allowed him to show her in. If only she knew…
It was a fateful meeting regardless, and I had the Count of Bulbola to thank for that.
As I was lost in my little dream world, he led Fran into what looked like a waiting room.
“Fran, you’re here!”
“We’ve been waiting for you.”
Fult and Satya were already there. The stone-faced chamberlain, Sellid, was also there, along with the three orphans the prince had taken in. They had changed out of the rags they’d worn in Seedrun and looked more like nobles than street urchins, though you could still tell who they were when they spoke. They each waved at Fran.
A well-built man sat beside them. He wasn’t as impeccably dressed as the prince and princess but still looked like a noble, though I’d never seen a highborn with such military bearing. He looked like he’d be more at home on the front lines than hiding behind his troops.
“I am Marquis Rhodus Christon, Count of Bulbola.”
“Hm. Fran. Adventurer.” Fran didn’t offer her hand, but bowed.
The marquis seemed arrogant, but I supposed that came with the territory. He did not return her bow. Christon was of high status and not required to lower himself to an adventurer. However, I sensed no ill will. He was just used to his position. He did what was natural to him without looking down on Fran.
“We are honored to welcome a guest of our highnesses here. Please, feel free to stay at our abode for as long as you are in Bulbola.”
“All right.”
The marquis seemed magnanimous, too. He wasn’t the slightest bit upset at Fran’s lack of court etiquette. He’d correctly deduced that showing Fran some hospitality was the best way to get into Fult’s graces.
The prince regaled the Count with the tale of their encounter with illegal slavers in Seedrun and how a Raydossian said they had ties with a slaving ring in Bulbola. Then he asked the Count to apprehend these slavers.
Some espionage would be required, so it’d be difficult for the marquis to make his move right away, but it seemed that the local Knight Brigade was already on it.
“It’s going to be tough.”
The prince had used his clout as a member of the royal family to meet the Marquis Christon. But this was our chance to run down those slavers, so the least we could do was cheer Fult and Satya on.
Fran showed them the flyer and announced that she was going to be taking part in the contest.
“I see. Bulbola’s cooking contest is famous throughout the realms.”
“I believe one of the winners is actually employed in our royal palace back home. Is that right, Sellid?”
“Indeed. I believe the head chef won the contest ten years ago.”
So it was true that the winner had a chance at working for royalty.
“So, how do you plan on beating these seasoned veterans of the culinary world?” Fult asked with a worried look.
Satya said nothing but looked equally troubled. It was testament to how difficult this would be, but Fran was unwavering in her confidence.
“We’re going to win by presenting curry.”
“Curry? Is that the dish you gave us back in Seedrun?”
“Yeah.”
“That was delicious, indeed. I think you could go far with it.”
“Far isn’t good enough. We plan to go all the way to victory.”
“I see. In that case, you have our support.”
“Good luck, Fran.”
Sebastian interrupted, excusing himself for cutting into our conversation and telling us dinner was served.
I thought Fran and the other children would be expected to be on their best behavior, but dinner turned out to be quite relaxed. Marquis Christon never reprimanded the kids for their lack of etiquette. Fult and Satya had likely informed him that this particular friend wasn’t comfortable with formalities.
Not to say the marquis was chummy with the other children, of course. But he left them to their own devices as he conversed with the royal twins.
“I was going to introduce you to my sons, but it would seem that they are running late. I apologize on their behalf.”
“I’ve heard about your sons. Your eldest, in particular, is famed for being a gentleman,” Sellid replied.
Reading between the lines, he was saying, “You have the esteemed prince and princess of Phyllius in your presence, and they’re running late, you say? What could possibly be more important than this?!”
“My apologies,” the marquis replied. “They were all present yesterday, but they’re occupi
ed by the Festival of the Moons. Things are getting more hectic as we close in on the festival, and the committee must stay on site to oversee preparations. Phillip is among them as the head of the Knight Brigade.”
The marquis was smiling, but his words actually implied, “Well, if you had come here yesterday as scheduled, everyone would’ve been here to greet you. It’s your own damn fault for being late. We’re busy enough this time of year without you around to add to our obligations. The captain of the Knight Brigade has no time to waste on pleasantries, so don’t think everything will go according to your precious itinerary.”
But such were conversations among the high and mighty, always wrapped in double meaning and sarcasm. The nobles here were just as roundabout as the politicians back home.
Still, I was surprised that Sellid, usually tone-deaf in social situations, could engage a noble with such eloquence. Then again, he was always trying to exult the prince and princess, so perhaps he was only feigning tone-deafness. Given his position as chamberlain, it was only natural that he’d have some oratory skills.
“So your eldest is the captain of the Knight Brigade?”
“Yes. Fights have been breaking out in the slum district, and the lad has been swamped with work.”
“My goodness, how unfortunate. Well, just let him know that he is free to come and greet us at his leisure,” the prince said nonchalantly. Sellid’s hard work seemed to have escaped his notice.
“Thank you, Your Highness. Crime rates tend to go up this time of year, you know.”
“Do they, really?”
“Yes. Most of them are intent on stealing from the tourists who’ve come for the festival.”
Of course. The increase of human traffic inside the city walls made Bulbola a paradise for pickpockets and robbers.
The marquis continued bragging about his sons. In addition to Phillip, the captain of the Knight Brigade, there was Brook, the second son and manager of a fairly large trade association. He was even part of the upper echelons of the Merchant’s Guild, making him even busier than his elder brother. Surprisingly, his third son, Waint, was a chef.
When the marquis mentioned that his son was taking part in the cooking contest, Fran took out the flyer.
“This one?”
“Yes. Are you participating as well?”
“Hm.”
“I see. Best of luck to you.” The marquis couldn’t be less interested. “I keep telling that boy to stop such foolishness and assist his brothers, but he just won’t listen.”
He even called it “foolishness” when a participant was sitting right in front of him! Although, I could understand how a noble of his stature saw being a chef as frivolous.
The marquis wasn’t a bad man, but he was definitely insensitive and seemed to enforce his view of the world on everyone around him. He indulged Fran, since she was a lowborn, but he seemed to think that being a chef was unbecoming for his son. I supposed his discrimination worked on a subconscious level since he expected everyone to see his reasoning.
No need to pout, Fran. This guy doesn’t mean anything by it.
But still…
I couldn’t have Fran arguing with the local count. I had to convince her.
You can prove him wrong with our cooking.
Hm. True.
Right? We’ll make the most delicious plate of food, and let him have it.
Okay. We’ll make curry so good he’ll have to bow down and cry.
I was glad that Fran was the quiet type. Although her talk of making the Count bow down suggested that she was still lacking common sense…
After dinner, she was led to her quarters—a guest room so grand it looked like a five-star hotel. We wouldn’t have minded sleeping in the staff quarters, but they wouldn’t let an honored guest of the Phyllian royal family stay in such paltry accommodations.
“If you need anything, ring that bell and one of our maids will attend you.”
This place is huge…and fancy, too.
“Oooh, so fluffy.”
“Woof!”
Unable to resist, Fran dove into the canopy bed right in the middle of Sebastian’s explanation.
Stop jumping on the bed!
I’d told her over and over, but she just kept doing it! The marquis’ bed looked like it cost a small fortune, and there was no way we would be able to pay if she broke it. What was the point of all these detailed carvings on the bedposts? Silver shafts glistened atop fine linen sheets.
I’ll let you off the hook this time, Fran. But Jet, the bed is off limits for you tonight.
“Arf…”
Those puppy dog eyes won’t work on me today! No means no!
Knowing that their appeals were falling on deaf ears, Fran and Jet turned to Sebastian.
“Can Jet sleep in bed with me, please?”
“Woof…”
Jet gave the butler his most pathetic whine as he rubbed against Sebastian’s leg.
“B-but of course. We have as many changes of sheets as you may require, so use it to your heart’s content.”
“Thanks.”
“Arf!”
Well, I guess if the head butler said it was okay…
Just don’t mess the room up too much, all right?
We won’t.
“Woof, woof!”
Fran and Jet carried on exploring the room after Sebastian left, pulling out drawers and peeking into the fireplace.
Don’t break it, now.
“Hmm.”
I began my preparations for the cooking contest. I would start by testing some of the food we’d brought from the Dragonhead. I produced a clone of myself and started with the soup.
“Hmmm.”
It was delicious. Even my clone, with his blunted sense of taste, could tell. I wouldn’t be able to beat this if I just threw a pot of curry together and called it a meal. I’d have to prepare several flavors of curry bread and find a unique way of selling them.
We should go to the Adventurers’ Guild to research the Haunt.
Crystal Cage would be our first Haunt, so we couldn’t afford to be sloppy.
We told Sebastian we were going out, and he let us know we could reenter the mansion quickly using the staff entrance. It made sense that the help didn’t have to go through the massive front garden whenever they left the estate.
There’s a lot of people tonight.
The noble district was quiet, but as we headed downtown, more and more people crowded the streets.
“A lot of food stalls, too.”
“Woof!”
It was the eve of the Festival of the Moons, and people were already celebrating, drinking, and dancing about the streets.
The inhabitants of the towns we’d visited so far retired to their homes when night fell, leaving only merchants and adventurers roaming the streets. The sight of a crowd drinking outside on the eve of a festival was new to me. It reminded me of Earth.
We have plenty of time to eat later. Let’s get to the Adventurers’ Guild.
“Munch, munch. Okay.”
One day later.
We spent the night preparing for our excursion and prepared to leave the mansion at daybreak.
Having done our research the night before, we were well equipped to deal with whatever the Haunt could throw at us. Fran had been asleep most of the time… Still, I had most of the information in my head, so we would be all right.
Would’ve been a lot easier if there weren’t anyone else using the library…
I had to manipulate Fran’s sleeping body with Telekinesis the entire time I was researching. Despite it being so late, there were others still using the library. I supposed it was par for the course in a big city guild. The biggest challenge of the night was extracting books from the bookshelves using Fran’s body.
It was just like her to sleep in a library.
I was controlling her on this fine morning as well, given she was still half-asleep. I moved her barely conscious body to hold on to Jet, and let hi
m drag her. I thought it made for a good party trick.
As we walked through the morning bustle, the scent of freshly cooked food soon woke Fran up. The Festival of the Moons was in full swing, and most of the shops and food stalls were still open from last night.
“Hm. I think I’ll have some soup.”
Sure. Don’t forget to get some for Jet, too.
“Yeah.”
Fran ordered a clear fish soup, tailored for people who were hungover.
She placed two orders and paid the lady at the stall, receiving soup-filled paper bowls in return. The fact that she could get paper utensils at a random food stall showed how advanced Bulbola was.
Fran set Jet’s bowl down in front of him.
“It looks good.”
“Woof, woof!”
Fran’s eyes were sparkling with hungry anticipation when it happened.
“Woaaargh! Move it, move it, outta the way!”
“Kyaa!”
A ragged-looking man let out a scream as he bumped into a girl, who bumped into Fran in turn.
“…”
“Oh no! I’m so sorry.”
“Hm…”
Fran looked at her bowl as it rolled over the pavement, its delicious contents splattered all over the ground. Her sharp eyes darted to the rampaging man as he disappeared into the distance.
“You okay, honey?” asked the shopkeeper.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry I dropped it.”
“That’s all right. Did you burn yourself?”
“No. Thanks for asking.”
Fran bowed to the worried shopkeeper and left. She was serious now. Her lithe body slipped through the crowd, intent on stopping the man in his tracks.
“Hold it.”
“You shut up! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you dead!”
Lack of manners wasn’t the guy’s most immediate problem. His eyes were bloodshot, his speech slurred. He looked like he was on some sort of drug.
He showed no signs of stopping, so Fran tripped him up. The man flew into a tailspin and rolled a couple feet into the road.
Fran, I know you were upset about him wasting food, but don’t you think that’s a little bit much?
But even that wasn’t enough to quell Fran’s anger.
She healed the man as he lay twitching on the pavement, then grabbed him by the collar and stood him up.